Fault
by Shembre
Summary: Years after the Inception, Phillipa learns about Mal's death, shuns her father, and wishes to live with her grandmother- taking James, too. Jobless, Cobb becomes lost as he faces life without the kids. Can he rebuild again, or is this really the end for Cobb?
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Based on a prompt I'd found a couple years ago, I believe on the Inception Kink forum, that focused on Cobb's life after the Inception, Phillipa's reaction of Mal's suicide, and Cobb's subsequent spiral downward into depression. I've been writing this for a while now, off and on, so I'm happy to start posting this. Please enjoy...**_

 **Fault**

* * *

 _"You don't seem to understand, Dominick. I know-"_

"Marie, don't take them away." Cobb's grip tightened on the cellphone pressed to his ear. "They're my kids. _My_ kids."

His entire life. While those specific words didn't pass over his lips, his mother-in-law certainly heard them in his voice. James and Phillipa were two big reasons to get out of bed in the morning. He closed his eyes like he was shielding his gaze from an active battlefield.

 _"Weren't you fired?"_ asked the thickly-accented voice of the French woman. _"From that sales job?"_

"I'm _in between_ work, yes. And I left on my own free will," Cobb confirmed. "I'm trying to find a—"

 _"Don't try to find a job. Get a job."_

Indignation heated Cobb's cheeks and chest. The fingers of his free hand curled and uncurled as he carefully shaped his words. "I've got a few good interviews lined up. They're very promising. I am doing my best— the kids want for nothing… Being out of work doesn't mean I stop providing for them. I don't understand. Why are you suddenly so eager to take my children? This is—I love them, and I worked very hard to clear my name—"

 _"I still do not understand how."_

"And I've worked hard _since_ I've been home, regardless," Cobb continued. "There wasn't a day I didn't think of them. You know that. I appreciate that you cared for them while I was gone, but this is my time. I want to move on, but you are getting in the way of that."

Marie was quiet. No matter what, Cobb could never make up for Mal. Then Marie said, _"Phillipa called me. She wants to live with me. She wants James to come with her."_

Cobb's eyes widened. "W-what? Since when?"

 _"Last week. I gave Phillipa two days to think about her request and she remains resolute. Apparently your home isn't the environment they need."_

Cobb's mouth opened and Marie's words rushed over the line.

 _"You are as unfit a father as you were a husband. Stephen was just as worthless, and he's equally to blame, so don't look to him for help."_ Her voice cracked a little but regained its strength. _"I am gathering paperwork, just so you know, if you fight this. I suggest you get the children's things in order."_

"Marie, I— Hello? Hello?"

The line went dead.

Cobb flung the phone across his bedroom. It bounced off the taupe-colored wall and left a scuff mark and a dent. He was alone in the house, so nobody heard the racket or his cursing. He dropped down on the bed, his head in his palms.

 _I'm losing them…_ It had been asinine to cling to the idealist dreams that he'd held to every night before falling asleep in some strange hotel in a foreign country.

His first few months home had been bliss. He'd relearned to parent after living on the lam, and had learned to manage a household without Mal. He'd relearned the children's habits and likes and dislikes. The first year back had been full of adjustments, and the following years had been good, but eventually he realized that life would never be same. This was post-Mal life no matter how he tried to pretend it wasn't.

After five years, his dreamshare money started to run its course, and life quickly crumpled into a caricature. Cobb gave up his role as a stay at home father and found a job as a sales manager to rebuild his savings—with the slow economy, he'd been unable to find a position in architecture. To earn side money, he'd also played in the market, investing in various corporations. Cobb did well, well enough to quit his day job, but his bank accounts suffered greatly after several risky business deals and another downturn in the economy. To put less of the strain on himself, Cobb had moved the family into a more modest house, leaving the home that he and Mal had bought together. He and the kids had now lived in the new house for several months.

Cobb's palms and fingers came to a point at his nose and he breathed out through the bony, fleshed appendages. His eyes flicked over to the clock on the bedside table. He cursed under his breath.

He was late to pick up the kids from school.


	2. Chapter 2

James was the first stop, and he loaded up into the backseat. Cobb watched the boy strap on his seatbelt and made a mental note that James was due for a haircut. His light hair hung in his eye as he played with two action figures. Cobb looked into the mirror and smiled.

"How was your day at school, James?"

The boy glanced up. "It was okay." He then went back to his toys, making them argue in gruff voices.

Phillipa was next at the middle school. When she opened the other rear passenger door, James pointed his toys at her and made shooting noises. The girl ignored him and strapped in.

Cobb looked in the mirror again. He concentrated on keeping his voice level at the expense of any note of genuine cheerfulness. "And how was your day, sweetie?"

Phillipa stared out the window as Cobb drove away from the school. She shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

"James had a 'just okay' day, too. Learn anything interesting?"

"I learned about dinosaurs, Dad!" James put in excitedly, but once again went back to his toys.

"Phillipa?" Cobb pressed.

"We're learning about California's state history," she replied. "Did you know that during the gold rush, Chinese miners came here and were treated like animals?"

"Yes, yes, I did know." Cobb squeezed the steering wheel three times. "Hey, what should we do for Halloween, hmm? It's on a Saturday this year."

"I wanna be Hulk! I want the Hulk gloves—they're so cool! They make smashing noises and everything!"

Phillipa stared out the window, looking at the brown and orange trees.

"What about you, sweetie?"

She shrugged.

"What do you want to be for Halloween?"

She shrugged again and looked back at his eyes in the rear view mirror. "Nothing. I don't know."

Cobb turned his eyes back to the road. He clenched his jaw. His hand shook as he reached for the radio and turned the music down. "You know… Grandma called today."

James looked up and smiled. "Grandma? Are we gonna see her? When?"

Cobb glanced at the mirror again. Phillipa was still staring out the window. She rolled her shoulders and started to play with the ends of her long hair.

"That's one of the reasons Grandma called," Cobb said to James. "She really wants to see you two."

"When?" James repeated. "On Halloween? Isn't that why you asked?"

"We haven't decided when yet." Cobb looked in the mirror again and still Phillipa wouldn't look at him.

The drive home remained quiet. Cobb let them into the house and stopped Phillipa when she ran up the stairs behind James.

"Phillipa, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment please?"

She stopped on the stairs, one hand on the banister. "I've got a lot of homework." She glanced up at James, who had paused to see what was happening.

"I understand, but you can get to it after we talk," Cobb said, turning towards the kitchen. He heard James tell his sister she was in trouble, followed by her telling him to shut up and go upstairs.

"Sit." Cobb pulled out one of the dining table chairs at the head of the table and took a side chair for himself. He knit his fingers together and placed his hands in his lap, leaning into the back of the chair. Staring into space for a moment, he worked to compose himself while Phillipa sat down, a guarded but defiant look on her face.

"Grandma Marie called today," he started, struggling to keep his voice civil.

"Yeah, and?" she asked, raising a brow. She was sitting back in her chair, too. The top of the chair arched right over her head.

He looked at her, wondering why his little girl wanted to leave him. "You already know why she called, Phillipa… Why would you ask her such a thing? She wants complete custody of you and James—at your request."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't want to be here."

"Why not?" Cobb disentangled his hands and rested one hand palm-side down on the table.

"'Cos." Her eyes flicked to the side and her cheeks flushed pink. "I just don't want to. I'd rather be with Grandma."

Cobb's forehead creased with concern. "What's wrong with being here? Why do you want to go away?"

She still wouldn't look at him. "Because," she said through gritted teeth, "Grandma says you're responsible for what happened to Mom. Why she jumped from the hotel window and killed herself."

"What did Grandma tell you?" Cobb forced himself to look at his daughter. "I need you to tell me exactly what Grandma said about me and your mother."

"She said Mom lost it because of her dreams. Fake dreams or fake reality or something. Something about using some 'passive device' to enter people's dreams. She said _you_ can do things to people's heads. It didn't make much sense but I remember Mom acting weird… She told me once that she loved me and James but that she was waiting for you to take her back to her real kids. I told you it was weird but you just said she was tired or didn't mean it. Now I think I understand why she said that, and Grandma said that Mom didn't believe she was living in reality, but that she was still stuck in a dream because you guys stayed too long in your heads."

Clearly Phillipa still had many gaps to fill in, but all Marie had needed to say to turn his daughter against him was that Mommy's death was Daddy's fault. "How long have you known?" he asked.

"Summer."

Her words were merely confirmation. He'd known something was off after his kids had been with their grandmother for those two weeks. Phillipa had become distant, and had rarely smiled at Cobb since—unless by mistake. Then she would drop the smile and look away awkwardly. She had done this one too many times for it to be just an innocent occurrence.

"She said I don't have Mom anymore because of you. That's why you ran away for almost three years. Because you got her killed. You wouldn't run if you were guilty, right?" Phillipa narrowed her eyes.

Cobb gaped at Phillipa and swallowed hard. He had known this day was inevitable, the day when he'd have to explain why their mother had left them, but he'd hoped that he would be the one to explain. Marie had robbed him of that and had now poisoned Phillipa against him. "I didn't…" Cobb reached out and touched his daughter's arm. "I'm sure Marie has good intentions, but if you'll let me explain to you—"

Phillipa jerked her arm away and got up out of her chair, shoving it back over the linoleum floor with a harsh squeal.

"Phillipa, wait."

"I don't want to live with you! That's it. Don't try to lie to me." Phillipa made to leave the kitchen and made a flustered sound when she nearly ran into James, who had been eavesdropping. Cobb's eyes widened and he stood up. The boy rushed over and hugged Cobb's hip.

"Dad, I want to stay here. Phillipa made me not tell you. She says I have to go with her. I don't know why she's saying you killed mom. You couldn't. I don't believe her."

Cobb knelt down and hugged him. "I know you want to stay…" He knew Marie was going to put up an aggressive fight. He knew he had the will to fight for his kids—he'd already done it once before, but part of him wondered if he wanted to put the kids through what was lurking on the horizon.

James sobbed Cobb's shoulder wet with tears that ran down his flushed cheeks. "I don't w-want you to leave a-again!" James wrapped his arms around Cobb's neck with the death grip of a young boy.

Cobb looked up, his eyes stinging with tears. Phillipa stared back at him. The unfeeling, determined look on her face, in her green eyes, sent chills down Cobb's spine. He saw into the future and saw himself sitting alone, his children belonging to someone else, with little hope of getting them back. In that moment he didn't see Phillipa changing her mind, and sooner or later she would change James's mind, too. The girl blinked, turned, and went upstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

For the rest of the day, James didn't leave Cobb's side. They did homework together and cooked dinner. Cobb called Phillipa down, but she didn't leave her room. After cleaning up the kitchen, Cobb put a plate of food in the refrigerator in case she got hungry.

He and James watched TV until he put James to bed around nine o'clock, and read the boy a book to fall asleep.

At nine-thirty, Cobb sat awake in his own bedroom, staring into space. When he looked at the clock again, it was after one in the morning.

He picked up the phone and dialed Miles's number. It was the middle of the morning in Paris—early enough for the professor to be up, but to also possibly be leading a lecture to a hall of clever students. The phone rang three times before Miles answered.

 _"Yes, Dom? Just so you know, I have five minutes before my class."_ He was breathing as if he were trekking across the university campus.

"Miles, Marie wants to take the kids away from me."

Miles didn't answer for a second. _"Why would she do such a—well, I know why, but why?"_

"Phillipa knows."

 _"About…? About Mallorie?"_ Miles guessed.

"Yes. Phillipa doesn't want to be here, now, with me. She asked Marie for a place to stay and now your ex-wife is threatening to file for custody."

Miles went silent, though Cobb could still hear his rasping breaths.

"James doesn't want to go," Cobb went on. "I don't know what to do. You know how important they are to me—Marie did this to spite me, I just know it."

 _"Did you ask Phillipa if she asked Marie about her mother…? Or if Marie was the one to bring it up?"_

"No—I… I didn't get the chance to ask…" Cobb stood up and started to pace his room. "I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if Phillipa asked…"

 _"What are you going to do about this?"_

Cobb pursed his lips a moment. "I'm not sure. The last thing I want is to put the kids in the middle of a battle. What do you think Mal would want me to do?"

 _"It doesn't matter what she would've wanted—you have to make the decision. She's no longer here, Dom,"_ Miles said reasonably. He then added slowly, _"Now, I will support you in court, and you have a fair chance because you are their father, but it's your choice if that's the path you want to take."_

Cobb nodded.

 _"And I wouldn't suggest running away with them. That will only make things worse."_

"I know, I know, I won't," Cobb replied in irritation. The idea had crossed his mind, but he didn't possess the courage or the stamina required to go on the run again. Especially not with Phillipa, who had a will of her own.

" _I'm sorry, Dom, but I must go,"_ Miles said. In the background were the voices of students. _"I'll call you this evening—Paris time— so we can discuss this further."_

"Umm-hmm…" Cobb sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, Miles."

 _"Take care. Get some rest."_

"Bye." Cobb ended the call and put the phone on his dresser. The call had solved nothing, but he hadn't really expected it to. He was tearing up again when he heard a small noise at his door. He opened it and found James.

"I had a dream and you were gone again." James tugged at the bottom of his green pajama top. "I had to come see if you were still here."

"James…" Cobb knelt down and hugged his son. He wanted to tell him that he wasn't going anywhere, but that wasn't a promise he could make to James. Instead Cobb tucked James into the empty side of his bed in the hopes that the boy's bad dreams would stay away.

* * *

Cobb opened his eyes and rolled out of his bed. He went into his dark bathroom, without bothering to turn on the lights. He ran some water to splash over his face. The cool water ran down his cheeks and chin, dripping from his nose.

"You can't let my mother take the children."

Cobb's head whipped around. Within reaching distance a figure, wrapped in shadow, sat on his toilet. The figure turned, her bobbed hair silhouetting her head.

"You're their father. They need to be with you."

Cobb turned off the water. He blinked several times. Was he hallucinating? He'd come to terms with Mal's death, but with what had been going on with the kids, he had started to think about her more. She had been dead for nearly ten years. He swallowed and whispered, "I want to do what's best for them."

"Don't let my mother take them away from you." She tilted her head to the side. "You will fight, yes?"

"Mal…"

Cobb blinked again and it took him a moment to realize that he was staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. He'd been dreaming.

Instinctively, although he hadn't touched one in years, he checked his wrist for the bite of a PASIV needle prick. There were a dozen little raised scars on his skin, but nothing new. He'd only dreamed a handful of times since quitting the business, and this dream had been the most vivid yet. He rubbed his dry chin with one hand. There was the sound of even, restful breathing beside him. James was fast asleep. The clock on the side table read four in the morning.

Cobb slipped out of his bedroom and walked to the quiet kitchen where he turned on the light above his stove. He poured himself a glass of water and noticed the used plate in the previously empty sink. At least he could be happy that Phillipa had found her dinner.

Could he let them go? Should he fight for them? Did he even deserve to be with his kids? He knew better than to trust his guilty subconscious, especially when it manifested itself as Mal. The guilt was slowly creeping back in as Phillipa dwelled over the details surrounding her mother's death.

He took a drink from the cold glass he held in his hand and swirled the water around his parched mouth.

He knew he was done for if the court acknowledged his past and his role in Mal's suicide. Even with Saito's help, he couldn't clean up or silence every last bit of information that marked him as a murderer, and he knew Marie would find someone to dig up information, to find a good reason to take the kids away. It could be argued by a good lawyer that Mal's death had been of her own will, but what did all that really matter?

Phillipa wanted to leave. Keeping custody of her would do nothing to mend their relationship. And he didn't want to create a tug-of-war over poor James…

Would giving the children over to Marie look like a betrayal? Would James think that he hadn't tried hard enough? Abandoned him? Cobb felt sick, as if his stomach had wrapped around his heart and was dancing with his intestines.

He closed his eyes, set his glass down with a shaking hand, and vomited in the sink.


	4. Chapter 4

Cobb stayed up the rest of the night. He put himself in front of his computer and opened a web search for employment, but he only stared at the screen. He wondered if he was desperate enough to go back to the dreamshare to earn money, but he knew that would never be an option, so long as he was responsible for protecting his children. Around six that morning Miles called him earlier than expected. They talked, but Cobb only grew more frustrated. They kept circling around the problem, getting further away from a solution that would be in Cobb's favor.

 _"I wish I could be more help to you, Dom,"_ Miles said. _"I wish Marie and I were on better terms. But that doesn't remedy Phillipa's shaken heart."_

Cobb sighed, wringing his mussed-up hair between his fingers. "You did enough, helping me get them back. I never would've been able to ever see them again if not for Ariadne. You trained her well… How is she, by the way? And Arthur?"

 _"Well. Ariadne has a good job, but can't seem to leave dreams behind. She and Arthur take small jobs. I gather you haven't talked to either of them lately."_

"Haven't bothered them."

 _"I wouldn't be surprised if a marriage proposal wasn't too far off…"_ There was a smile in the man's voice. _"Do you want them to know about what's happened with the children?"_

It hit him then: not only had he risked the lives of his team to complete an impossible task, but he had put them at risk in order to get back to the children he was about to lose once more.

 _"Cobb,"_ came Miles' voice. _"Cobb?"_

"I should call Arthur myself," he said evasively, in almost a mutter. Cobb didn't want Arthur and Ariadne to hear about his situation secondhand. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll talk later—keep you updated."

* * *

"But I don't wanna go to school. I told you."

Cobb parked in front of James's elementary school, a couple days after he had talked with Miles. "You need to go." A car behind him honked. "You really need to go, James. I'll pick you up after school."

"Daaaaadddy."

Cobb glanced at his side mirror. "Maybe you can stay home tomorrow, but right now I need to go or Phillipa'll be late. There are cars behind me."

More honking.

James rolled his eyes and opened his door, but not before sticking his tongue out at his sister, who scowled.

"Dad!" Phillipa cried indignantly.

Cobb waved to James before he pulled away from the curb. "Just ignore him, Phillipa—whoa." Cobb slammed on the breaks when a passing car honked at him. Absently, he waved an apology. Once he was in the flow of slow school zone traffic, he rolled his shoulders and sighed. The pressure in his chest increased.

"Phillipa?" he asked, glancing up at the rearview mirror. "Do you really want to live with Grandma?"

"Yes."

Cobb sighed. He was too exhausted to get fired up at this point after his daughter's blunt reply. "Do you understand that we'll have limited communication?"

Phillipa's eyes narrowed. She fidgeted. "I understand. Things will go back to the way things were before. When you were away."

Cobb nodded sadly. "Yes, yes they will. Do you understand that if Grandma decides to file papers with the courts, that will make it harder for me to see you, depending on the details?"

Although Phillipa continued to stare out the window, a little flicker of comprehension widened her eyes. "I guess."

"You guess, huh? Then probably no holidays or birthdays."

Her demeanor hardened again. "Fine."

Cobb wrung the steering wheel. "And you understand that you are taking James away from our home?"

"It would be weird if he didn't come with me."

"Did you ask Grandma Marie about Mom... or did she tell you herself?"

Although Phillipa didn't answer, her head did bow a little, and Cobb thought there were tears in her eyes. Neither spoke when Cobb pulled up to his daughter's school and she jumped out. He sat there for a moment in a daze before he steered into traffic once more. He headed back into town and stopped at a flower shop.

* * *

Cobb walked into the public mausoleum with sunflowers in his hand. His shoes crunched over the dead leaves the wind had blown in. He replaced the dead flowers with the new in the little vase next to the little metal plaque that read _Mallorie Cobb._ At her mother's wishes, Mal had been cremated and her ashes locked behind a wall of white-and-gray streaked marble. The flowers placed, Cobb sat down, facing the flowers and plaque, his back against the hard marble wall opposite. Tears stood in his eyes. He tried to swallow them down.

"I'm sorry, Mal," he said to the cold air. "I'm sorry for everything. I tried to make something out of nothing, but I couldn't do it…"


	5. Chapter 5

"Dad… I wanna stay with you… Why can't I?"

"Grandma wants you to live with her for a while. She'll take good care of you." Cobb knelt down on the steps outside of Marie's and hugged James.

He'd decided to let the children go, to not put them through the hell of the court system. Marie had rented a house in town, and was going to keep the kids in the same school district until the end of the year before she moved them back to France. It would also give Phillipa, and mostly James, time to work on their French and make adjustments.

"Dad… no…"

 _It's better this way…_ Cobb told himself unconvincingly. He could only hope that Phillipa and Marie wouldn't turn his son against him. Cobb knew he couldn't do it to himself; to hold out hope that Phillipa would forgive him anytime soon would drive him crazy.

"Time for letting your father go, James," Marie said, fingers on the boy's shoulder. "You can see him at Thanksgiving."

James tightened his grip on Cobb, who looked up and saw the lie in Marie's crow-feet framed eyes, especially when she dug her fingers into James' coat and started to pull.

"C'mon, James. Grandma made lunch," Phillipa said, standing in the shadowed doorway, her coat already off. Her arms were crossed over her chest. "It's macaroni and cheese."

Cobb frowned and pursed his mouth. He pulled James from his neck and stood up, still holding the boy's hands, maintaining their connection while starting the separation process. "Hear that, James?"

"I'm not hungry," James muttered. "I don't want to be here!" Tears streaked his red cheeks. He frowned up at his grandmother when she placed both her hands on his quivering shoulders.

"Thanksgiving is only two weekends away," Cobb said.

"Promise you'll come," James demanded.

"Well, that depends on Grandma, now doesn't it?" Cobb looked at the woman with as neutral an expression as possible.

Being that she was behind James, Marie glared at Cobb. "Come, come, James." She took one of the boy's wrists and Cobb let go, though James held on.

"No!"

Cobb flinched. James was crushing his fingers, but he couldn't bear to remove his son's grip on his hand. Instead, Phillipa came back outside and broke them apart. For a second, her cold skin touched Cobb's hand, making him feel sick.

"Nooo!" James wailed, sobbing as Marie and Phillipa dragged him over the steps of the porch and into the house. Phillipa didn't look back as the door shut on Cobb. Inside, he could hear his son's muffled cries.

Looking down, Cobb put his hands in his pockets, turned around, and walked down the walkway to his car.

* * *

He spent time out of the house looking for work and going to interviews, but nothing became of his efforts

As he'd predicted, Marie failed to invite Cobb to Thanksgiving. He called her twice, but his voice mails went unanswered. He thought about going to the house, but he decided to practice patience and to give them space. He considered calling his children, but figured Phillipa would ignore him, and he cringed at the thought of reminding James of his absence, even though he was sure the boy was upset that his father had abandoned him.

Keeping himself together for the two weeks leading up to Thanksgiving seemed easy enough, but that weekend and for nearly a week thereafter, he was unable to get out of bed. The house was a mess. He took down his daughter and son's school photos, but felt guilty and replaced them on the walls.

His face grew gaunt. His eyes were puffy and red. Most of the time, he kept his hollow gaze down. It was easier that way, when he had no desire to look up and see how his pain was ravaging his being.

Before he knew it, it was the week before Christmas. He decided to check into a hotel for a few days so he didn't have to worry that the house was a mess or that he was hallucinating the voices of his kids because he hadn't slept in days. Lonely, he gave in and gathered the courage to call James, but the call didn't go through. This led him to call, or rather harass, Marie.

"I don't expect to see my own children, but at least let me talk to James. I know you disconnected his emergency phone. It's no longer in service!"

She could ignore him for Thanksgiving, but not Christmas. His patience had waned. Between the fifth and sixth call, he went to Marie's house where nobody answered the door. He sat in front of the house that afternoon until eight at night before going back to his hotel.

He wasn't sure how he made it from the house back to the hard mattress and the too-soft pillow beneath his head.


	6. Chapter 6

He'd been napping at the hotel for maybe an hour when his phone went off. Half-awake and still pissed off, he answered, "Finally! Listen, you have no right to—"

 _"Woah, Cobb! It's Arthur!"_

Cobb tensed up, and after a second he relaxed. He rubbed his face. Shit.

 _"What was that, Cobb?"_ The younger man's tone wasn't accusatory, or angry, so much as alarmed. _"Who's call were you waiting for?"_

"Marie's," Cobb replied. He stood up from his hotel bed. "She's got the kids. For a few weeks now." He wanted to add that she'd bullied him and that Philippa hated him, but the words stayed in his throat.

 _"Ah... Okay. Where are you? Ariadne stopped by the house. New people live there."_

"I'm at a hotel."

 _"Hotel?"_ Arthur paused for a moment. Cobb thought he heard Ariadne, but he couldn't make out what she was saying to Arthur. Then Arthur spoke to Cobb again. _"Which one?"_

Cobb told them the name of the hotel and Arthur said they were on their way. Thirty minutes later there was a knock at his door. He opened the door to the point man and architect. Arthur's eyes widened, while Ariadne's face crumpled at the sight of him. Cobb hadn't shaved in at least a week, maybe more, and he was in desperate need of clean clothes. Cobb stepped aside and allowed the couple to pass into the room.

"We'd wanted to surprise you," Ariadne explained. She gave Arthur a significant look.

"It's fine," Cobb said, unable to meet their probing gazes. "Long story short—Phillipa found out about Mal from Marie and didn't want to live with me anymore. She wanted James to go with her. Marie was going to file for custody if I didn't give, so I let them both go to spare everyone the trouble. And so…" He gave a little wave to gesture to nothing in particular.

"Cobb, I'm so sorry," Ariadne immediately said. "I know they mean everything to you."

Arthur stiffened. "How long since you last saw them?"

"The day I dropped them off. A couple weeks before Thanksgiving."

"And I take it that Marie would prefer you don't see them again?" Arthur asked.

"That's how I'm taking it." Cobb rubbed the back of his neck. "You know… I want to commend her dedication for protecting the kids…" He held his hand over his heart. "I want to believe I did the right thing, and that I didn't give up too easily."

"Everything you've ever done has been for those kids," Arthur stated firmly. "You spared them an ugly fight and acted with dignity."

Cobb looked at the younger man and heard the pride in his voice, but the last quality he would use to describe himself at that moment was dignified.

"When was the last time you ate?" Ariadne asked. She brushed her hair away from her face and Cobb noticed there was a ring on her left hand.

Cobb thought for a moment. He had picked up some snacks at the store a few days prior, but his throat had been too tight with grief to allow him to eat more than a few bites at a time. His stomach felt hollow and he had a headache.

Ariadne nodded and pursed her mouth. "So a while?"

"I suppose so."

She pulled out her phone and started working. Within a minute she was had someone on the line taking her order for a pizza. Arthur sat down on the bed next to Cobb and they watched her.

"So, that ring on her finger…?" Cobb asked quietly.

Arthur smiled. "I proposed to her at Thanksgiving."

"Well, congratulations to the both of you," Cobb said, giving Ariadne a small smile when she heard them and looked over.

The pizza arrived forty minutes later. Cobb tried to stop eating at one slice, but Ariadne insisted he eat at least half of a second. They ate silently at the table in the room. Ariadne found a Christmas special to watch on the TV. Cobb couldn't help but wonder if his kids were watching it, too, wherever they were.

"I don't know where my kids are right now," Cobb said, catching Arthur and Ariadne's quick attention. He explained shortly, "I went to Marie's house today and nobody answered the door."

"Maybe they were in town," Ariadne suggested.

"I saw a neighbor come by to check the mailbox and grab the newspaper," Cobb said flatly.

Arthur's face darkened and his eyes flitted to Ariadne, who looked back at Arthur and then to Cobb.

"Cobb… I…" She trailed off.

Cobb sighed. "I know what you're thinking, and you're right. This _is_ crushing me. This isn't the bullshit I thought I was coming home to. I thought I would have my kids again and be happy. But that's not how it turned out. My own daughter hates me because of what I did to Mal. How can I change what happened? Hmm? I can't. I have to wait for Phillipa to change her mind, and I resent the fact that she may never… never want me to be a father to her again."

Arthur put his hands on the table and moved his half-eaten pizza slice out of the way. Then he reached across the table and touched Cobb's forearm. "I'm sorry, Cobb."

Cobb looked up at the younger man. "No, _I'm_ sorry. For what I did to you. To the team." His head bobbed with every word. He didn't realize until then that he had never apologized for what he'd done during the Inception. They'd all risked their minds, and he had put that upon them. He knew if they'd known, they never would have helped him. He'd been a desperate man. A crazy man... "You worked under unknown circumstances," he went on. "I put you there and forced you to work with me while my subconscious tried to sabotage it all. You all did your best. I put you through hell."

A little smile quirked up Arthur's mouth. He nodded. Ariadne smiled as well, looking from one man to the other.

"And Ariadne," Cobb said, "I have you to thank the most, for the time I did have with my children. You went into Limbo for me, without even me asking you to take on that danger. I… I can't remember if I ever properly thanked you."

"You're welcome, Cobb," the young lady said.

Arthur removed his hand from Cobb's arm. They ate again in silence, still watching the Christmas specials. At around one in the morning, Arthur and Ariadne left the hotel, and again Cobb was alone. He felt stuck as he looked around the hotel room, feeling like the walls were closing in on him. He sat down on the bed and stared at the TV, thinking, and when he blinked, he was watching an infomercial, and the clock said that it was three in the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

On Christmas Eve, Cobb decided to check out of the hotel and go back home. Ariadne and Arthur promised to visit him at the house later. While they were out shopping, and while he couldn't stand being at the house alone, Cobb drove around aimlessly until he had to fill up at a gas station. He looked up when he heard the laughter of a family. Mom and dad with three cute little kids under the age of eight. They had a tree strapped to the roof of their SUV. He turned his face away, feeling sick and numb, and shook out the gas pump.

He pulled onto a road that led him out of town. He kept blinking, and he knew there were stretches of time when he didn't see the road. Only visions and memories of his kids… He was going to miss them opening their presents. They certainly weren't going to open the Nintendo gaming console that he'd bought on sale during the summer and had stashed in his closet.

"You have given up on the children."

Cobb blinked when he heard Mal's voice. He turned his head to look at the passenger side before he looked in his rearview mirror to find his wife sitting behind his seat.

"You must find them," she said, her voice strangled. Part of her hair covered one of her wide eyes. "Find the children. They belong with you, not my mother. She can't have them."

Cobb blinked hard and Mal was gone again. He wasn't sure if he had slept at all since Ariadne and Arthur had visited him. There were just stretches of time that he lost track of…

Honking called his attention forward. Every muscle tensed. A service van swerved when he swerved.

Cobb's car ran off the road and he went into a tree while the service van pulled off the side of the road and parked. Another car came along, shining its lights on Cobb's crushed front end.

The headlights of a car shone on his face as he opened his eyes. He was lightheaded. The airbag had escaped from his wheel, dusting him grey. He put his hand up to shield against the blinding glare. The light flickered for a second, and not a second later someone was outside rapping with knuckles on the window.

The man asked how he was. If he was okay.

And he muttered that, no, he most certainly was not. He couldn't place the man's face. Why had he stopped? He needed to get back to the house. Ariadne and Arthur would be coming over soon.

Cobb leaned back with head against the headrest and listened to the ringing in his ears.

* * *

Cobb's attention focused and he and found that he was in a hospital bed surrounded by a white curtain. He was hooked up to tubes and wires. He didn't think he was seriously injured, but his chest and head ached. He might as well have been punched in the face and chest, and he knew he had a bad case of whiplash and maybe a concussion.

A nurse pulled aside the curtain. "He's right here—and look it there, he's awake."

Cobb looked up through swollen eyes. He blinked when Arthur appeared, followed by Ariadne.

"How'd you know I was here?" Cobb asked hoarsely after the nurse did a quick check of his vitals and left.

Arthur gave a small smile. "I have my ways."

"The hospital checked your cellphone," Ariadne remarked. "We would have checked here anyway since you weren't at your house."

Cobb nodded and glanced at Arthur. "Ah."

Arthur shifted on his feet. "How are you doing?"

Cobb looked to the side before he could stop himself, and he got caught up on staring at the texture of his blanket and the IV in his arm.

"Cobb, hey." Ariadne took a step closer.

There was no way Cobb could reply. He clenched his jaw. Any strength that he still had went out of him.

"Cobb," Ariadne spoke up, "you don't have to pretend you're okay. We understand."

Cobb looked up at the young couple. They were just starting their lives with each other, while he had lost his wife and his children. They could understand what he was going through, but they really never could, and he would never wish what he was going through on them or anyone else.

"The nurse said you could leave at noon," Arthur said. "So long as you have someone to look after you.

"What time is it?" Cobb asked.

Arthur looked at his watch. "Early. Twenty after five on Christmas day." He then turned to Ariadne. "I'm going for coffee. I'll bring you one back."

Ariadne nodded as her fiancée left. She sat down on the bed an inch away from Cobb's blanketed feet.

"Cobb… did you do this…"

"On purpose?" Cobb finished. He shook his head with his stiff neck.

Ariadne glanced away, unconvinced. Of course she could read him better than just about anyone. She'd also known that she couldn't ask in front of Arthur.

"I admit I shouldn't have been driving, considering how little sleep I've had," Cobb said, "but I lost control and hit a tree. Nothing more."

The young woman swallowed. She whispered, "If you ever plan to… umm, you know… please come find me. Okay?"

Cobb's face heated up. From the outside, he was sure he looked suicidal as hell. He hadn't considered offing himself, but realistically, how long could he live like he was mourning the death of everybody he had ever known? Live in the fog that had filled his body? Stand to be in his head with the muck and mire of toxic thoughts that circulated like a swarm of bees and clung to the inside of his skull like they'd been trapped on fly paper and had gone to die, but somehow kept getting free and stuck and then doing it all over again?

"Promise?" Ariadne spoke up after he hadn't said anything.

He sighed through his nose. "I promise."

After Cobb was discharged by the hospital, and after he was asked if he wanted to recuperate at the house and the answer was no, Arthur brought Cobb to the hotel he and Ariadne had been staying at. The setup was nice. It was constructed like a little apartment with a large kitchen and a single, separate bedroom. Ariadne and Arthur gave him the bedroom while they took to the hiding couch bed in the living room. Arthur went out to find a store for some food. Ariadne stayed behind. When Cobb came out of his bedroom, his hands in his pockets, he found her standing on the balcony, her hair wisping in the breeze.

"Arthur thought you might take a nap."

"I slept at the hospital." Cobb leaned against the balcony with his forearms.

Ariadne looked down and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry you can't be with your kids. I know how much it meant…" Her voice fell away. There was nothing she could say to Cobb. There was nothing he hadn't tried to say to himself to make it better.

Cobb squinted up at the sky. "I'm sorry that I can't function."

When Arthur returned, he immediately started in on an early dinner. He made a nice baked fish with sautéed vegetables. Not long after eating, Cobb could no longer stay awake—he wondered if Arthur had slipped him something, and the next day, Cobb slept in until early afternoon.

The rest of that day consisted of sitting together in the hotel living room, watching TV, and chatting. Around five that evening, Ariadne suggested they go to dinner if Cobb was feeling up to it.

"I think that would be nice," Cobb admitted, though he could have easily found a bed and some blankets to curl up into and spent the rest of the night staring at the walls. Overall, he was feeling better than he had in at least a week, mainly because he'd rested up.

"Good." Arthur smiled and nodded.

They stopped by Cobb's house. Arthur offered to run in to grab Cobb something to change into. Cobb declined the offer.

"Sure?" Arthur looked out the driver window, his eyebrows knit in worry.

Cobb didn't want to, but he also didn't want Arthur to see the state of his house. He got out of the car. "Be back in a few."

Arthur rolled down his window. "Hey, pick something nice. We're not going to T.G. I. Friday's."

"I think Cobb gathered that when he saw my skirt and your tie."

The staleness of the house hit Cobb as he kept his eyes down and walked the hallway to his bedroom, which was littered with rumpled clothing and more than a few nights' worth of dishes. He looked in the back of his closet where he knew he'd find something nice, and tugged loose the first sleeve to pass through his fingers. After running a comb through his hair he put on the pin-striped long-sleeve button up, which he'd had for years.

"You look very handsome, Dom."

He saw Mal in the bathroom, standing behind him as he leaned over the sink and spat a glob of toothpaste spit into the sink.

"I got you that shirt. Remember?"

He ignored her and his gaunt cheeks and the marks that still lingered from his car accident. When he went out to meet Arthur and Ariadne in the car, he'd changed into a plain white shirt and had decided to wear a gray tie.


	8. Chapter 8

"Love you."

At the restaurant, Ariadne grinned up at Arthur when he pushed her chair in and pecked her cheek. "Love you, too."

Cobb blinked. It was the first time he'd heard this exchange, though he'd seen the love in their eyes long ago.

They made small talk until Arthur gave Cobb a pointed, questioning stare. Cobb was sure something had been nipping at the point man for several days now.

"What's gonna happen- with you, I mean? You don't have your kids. You've got work to keep you busy?" When Cobb gave him a look, Arthur shrugged and muttered, "Nobody's hunted you down, and you haven't been concerned about missing work."

Caught. "I'd like to stay out of the dreamshare, if that's what you're asking."

Arthur stared at Cobb at moment before he took a bite of his side salad. For a few minutes, Cobb thought that Arthur had dropped the subject before the point man said, "I'd never ask you to build for us or go under if that's not what you wanted. But you're good at negotiating. You're good with people."

Cobb nodded, but only because Arthur was right. Cobb grabbed an herb roll dusted in little pieces of salt and buttered it. "I suppose I am."

"So think about it." Arthur crunched on a cucumber. "Give you something to do."

"It's more than a little something to do."

Ariadne cleared her throat. "Arthur and I are actually wanting to cut back a bit. Maybe eventually get out in a few years. Do something else."

Cobb smiled to himself. That's what everyone in the dreamshare said. That's why there were dreamshare dens that used to cater to opium addicts. "Cutting back" was what him and Mal planned to do around the same time they got stuck in Limbo.

"Arthur? Ariadne?"

Ariadne looked up and Arthur turned around in his seat. Cobb looked up, too, and blinked. A smiling woman in a short black dress stood at their table. She had her blond hair pulled back from her face with shimmery pins, while the rest of her hair cascaded over her shoulders. She had the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"Saskia." Arthur stood up and gave the woman a professional-like handshake. With a polite smile, Arthur introduced the woman to Cobb. "This is Saksia Meer. She's a forger we've called favors in to when Eames is occupied. Saskia, Dominick Cobb."

Saskia grinned, leaned over the table, and extended her hand. "Pleasure! I've heard about your superior architect skills, Mr. Cobb. I've heard that Ariadne learned from the best."

"Oh, it's really unnecessary to flatter me when there really are better dream architects than myself at this table alone," Cobb replied, grinning. He was unable to look away from Saskia's eyes and red lipstick even though he wanted to glance at Ariadne.

"Oh, you're humble," Saskia said. "I like that."

Saskia's hand was soft, and she had a pleasantly firm grip. When she let go, disappointment filled Cobb.

"There's about a one-in-a-million chance that we'd run into each other," Arthur spoke up, sitting back down. "What brings you stateside?"

Saskia took the empty fourth seat. She sat with her hands up, fingers steepled. She stared back at Cobb as she answered. "This and that. You?"

Ariadne picked up her glass of water and took a sip. "This and that."

"I'm on vacation right now. Trying to rest and clear my thoughts." Saskia's lips pursed into a tight smile. "Well, I was just trying to think of who I'd like to work with on this next job I was asked to do in a month. Then I see you two."

Cobb noticed Ariadne shimmy in her seat and Arthur tap his fingers on the table. Suddenly, they'd become stiff, when Saskia seemed too warm and friendly, and it wasn't often that a new job just walked in the door and sat down at your table during dinner.

The young woman gave a closed-lip smile. "I'm sure my client would be willing to pay more once they see your credentials."

"I'm sorry, but we're going to have to decline. Full schedule." Arthur took a swig of his drink.

"Steady work is also what I have been promised."

Arthur took another drink while Ariadne smiled. "Umm, maybe later this year, Saskia.

Arthur gave a tight-lipped smile. "Sorry."

A moment later, a waitress appeared next to Saskia. "Ma'am, can I get you anything?"

Saskia shook her head. "I saw some friends and wanted to say hello." She stood up from the table. "Well… I really must be going." Grinning, Saskia touched Cobb's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too." He smiled back. "I hope our paths will cross again sometime."

Saskia giggled before turning from the table.

Ariadne whispered something to Arthur, but Cobb didn't heard. Arthur mumbled back, "She's… something."

Cobb nodded absently. "Yes, she's something. Beautiful," Cobb said as he watched Saskia head out the door and glance over her shoulder before she disappeared. When he looked back at Arthur and Ariadne, his brow furrowed. "What?"

Ariadne looked at Arthur before looking at Cobb again.

Cobb frowned. "What? Did I miss something? What is it?"

Ariadne said, looking down at her plate and prodding at her meal, "Long story short—we don't team up with her anymore."

"If I were you, I would be grateful she wasn't around when you were active," Arthur said.

Dom was unsatisfied by such vague explanations. "And why is that?"

"She's impulsive," Arthur said flatly. "And I'm not talking the thinking-on-your-feet kind of impulsive, just the I'm-going-to-act-without-telling-anyone kind. She hasn't done anything bad- yet- but it makes it hard to plan a mission."

"Ah." That sounded like something Arthur would be bothered by. And when the point man turned the conversation promptly to something else, Cobb knew that was the end of the subject, though he sensed that Saskia had done something else to offend Arthur.

Around nine that night, after another hour of chatting and ordering desserts and appetizers, Cobb went back with Ariadne and Arthur to their hotel room. He was sitting on the bed in the hotel bedroom when an unknown number called him. Without hesitation, he answered, thinking that it might be James.

"Hello?"

 _"Dominick, hello."_

Cobb blinked when he heard a woman's lilting voice on the line. He recognized it... "Saskia?"

The woman chuckled. _"Yes. I hope you don't mind me calling you Dominick. Mr. Cobb seemed much too formal."_

"No, I don't mind at all… How did you get my phone number?"

 _"I want something, I get that something,"_ she replied, and he'd expected nothing less. _"I will get straight to my purpose, Dominick. I would very much like to see you again."_

"Oh…" Cobb couldn't help but be impressed by how upfront Saskia was. He thought she was utterly attractive, no doubt, and probably quite intelligent, but at that moment Ariadne and Arthur's remarks came back to him. He trusted Ariadne and Arthur's judgment, but…

 _"How soon can I see you? To really properly meet you?"_

How could he ignore someone with a voice like that, whispering in his ear, calling a lonely, broken man to share her company? And although Ariadne and Arthur didn't enjoy her company on the job, who was to say that he wouldn't in leisure?

Cobb cleared his throat. "Yes, I'd like to meet."

 _"I couldn't agree more. And I don't see why we should put off anything more than we need to..."_

Cobb thought for a moment. Ariadne and Arthur weren't going to let him out of their sight for long. He was happy that _someone_ cared about him, but their presence brought on memories of being a horny teenager living under the roof of his parents. And maybe he needed something different. He needed distraction, to not keep picking at the scab and creating a bigger scar with his memories and disappointments. Finally, he said, "I'll call you again in a couple hours—max a few hours. Then we can meet tonight."

He swore he could hear Saskia's smile on the other end.

 _"I'll be waiting for you, Dominick."_

She ended the call.

"Right." His cellphone lingered at his ear a moment before he entered Saskia's number into his phone and set it down on the bed.


	9. Chapter 9

It was after midnight when Cobb was finally able to slip out of the hotel room and take a taxi across town to Saskia's hotel, which, of course, was the most expensive place in the city. He felt uncomfortable in his skin when he walked in the door and didn't stop at the counter. Most of the hotel staff and guests were too tired or drunk to notice him, but he was self-conscience and wondered if people thought he couldn't afford his rent payments, let alone an eight-hundred-dollar-a-night stay.

She was on the top floor. The blonde answered after two knocks. She'd changed into a white, over-sized button-up shirt—no pajama bottoms to be seen. "I would say that was more than a few hours, Dom. Do you mind me calling you Dom?"

His chest tightened as he entered her room. He gave Saskia a tight smile. "Let's stick to Dominick."

"Dominick it is, then." She grinned at him, and even reached out and swiped a finger along his jawline teasingly. Her eyes were beautiful and slightly squinted as she smiled.

And with that, he kissed her.

Several hours later, they lay in bed. Saskia had her cheek on his bare chest. Before Cobb realized it, he was tearing up. He hadn't been with anyone since Mal. His face flushed with embarrassment when Saskia turned her head and looked at him.

"What's wrong?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to gather himself. "It's nothing."

"C'mon, mister, you can tell Saskia. Tell me what plagues your heart." She rested her chin on his chest. The pins in her hair had slipped, giving her a half-feral appearance. With her index finger she tapped the center of his chest.

Cobb hesitated. Should he confide in her? He wasn't really looking for anything, and yet he'd been so drawn to Saskia... Her gaze was so innocent and open... He sighed. "It's…"

"Tell me."

He sighed again to collect his nerves. "Well… I haven't been the same since my mother-in-law took my kids… I haven't seen them since." Cobb snorted. "My little boy would love to see me. My daughter not so much…"

Saskia moved closer. "What are their names?"

"James and Phillipa."

"Beautiful names. Beautiful children? I bet they're as clever as their father, too?"

He nodded. "Yes," he replied. He flexed his jaw. January was on the horizon. He imagined his kids were enjoying their winter vacation. The last New Year's had been the first year that both the kids had made it to midnight. James had marveled at the fireworks and had said if he'd known, he would've tried harder to stay awake.

"You've gone away. Just now. You're miles away. Miles and miles."

Cobb blinked and cleared his throat. "I have difficulty staying present. It doesn't take much these days."

Saskia smiled. Her hand slipped between his legs to tease him. She pulled herself closer to his face and kissed him deeply. "Stay here. Don't stay here. Your mind is free to wonder with me. But I'll take care of you." She kissed him again.

Cobb drank in Saskia.

* * *

As soon it seemed like Cobb was back on his feet, mentally speaking, Arthur and Ariadne left town, back to business as usual. It was the start of the new year. News that he was seeing Saskia did not cross Cobb's lips. He had no intention of forgetting Saskia, and he didn't want the couple to worry that he was diving into a relationship with someone they weren't too fond of. And while she was around, it made staying at his house possible.

Arthur had been right; the forger was impulsive. But her "impulsivity" was welcomed with open arms. It distracted Cobb and was innocent. It hardly counted as impulsivity. The young woman just had a habit of doing what she wanted. No holding back. Whenever the idea walked into her head. That was all.

Saskia had unlimited energy. But to anyone who wasn't Cobb, a lot meant that it wasn't a struggle to clean up after dinner, do laundry, or get out of bed. At least with her around, she got him to do things he never would have done himself. She revived him. Resuscitated. Got his blood flowing again.

Saskia wanted to see the city before she had to leave and Cobb gladly acted as her guide. She liked to walk into ice cream shops and order the strangest flavor they offered just to see what it was like. Most of the time, she didn't like it, and Cobb asked her why she couldn't just ask for a sample so that she could enjoy her purchase. She'd shrugged. Samples ruined the fullness of the surprise, and the surprise was what she was after, not the taste.

And it wasn't until she woke him up to go watch the sunrise did he learn that it was something she did nearly every dawn. It bought her a quiet few moments to herself; a relic of when she'd lived with thirty other children—she hadn't elaborated on that, and he hadn't asked. Saskia also had a sweet spot for the destitute, handing homeless persons a lot more than just her spare change.

Cobb blinked. "Saskia, you just gave that woman a hundred dollars." He looked over his shoulder at a greasy-haired woman with open sores, cracked lips, and tattered clothing.

They continued down the street, holding hands. "It will do more for her than it does me."

"It's going to straight into a needle. I can guarantee—"

"So? Even so she'll have some relief from her shitty life." Saskia then whispered conspiratorially, "I am a dream thief. That is how I had those hundred dollars. Why should I judge her?"

After two weeks, she brought him her PASIV and invited him to use it. He'd initially declined—he really had never wanted to touch one again—but after a few days of seeing the PASIV parked on his dining room table, and knowing that Saskia would have to go back to work soon, he conceded. They spent time under, abusing real world human limitations that were stripped away in a dream. Using Saskia as the dreamer had been Cobb's only condition, though once she'd sweet-talked him into showing her the kind of dreams he could create, too. For ten minutes in dream time, he'd given her days and days' worth of marveling and inspired chatter. Thereafter, her own dreamscapes grew more vivid.

 _Too bad she managed to offend Arthur's less-than-spontaneous sensibility,_ Cobb thought as he swung open his front door with a bag of groceries for dinner.

"Dommy!"

He was startled when Saskia, standing right on the other side of the door, attacked him with a hug. A grin tightened her cheeks. She grabbed his elbow and pulled. "Come this way. I have something for you."

Cobb chuckled. "What is it, Saskia? Give me a sec."

She then took his grocery bag, set it down on the ground, and went around behind him. "Oh, I know you're just going to love me for this!"

He allowed her to steer him. "Oh, will I?" He realized he was steering up the stairs, probably to his bedroom.

"Yes!" Once he'd cleared the top of the stairs with a little difficulty, she covered his eyes with her delicate hands pushed him to walk faster. Her hands shook over the skin of his face.

"Ahh, I see…"

She giggled. "Not what you think."

The walk to his bedroom seemed much shorter when his eyes were closed... His bedroom was at the end of a hallway, and he knew something else was up when she stopped him at one of the rooms along the hallway. The room on the left. James's bedroom. When Cobb heard Saskia open the door, and when she dropped her hands Cobb blinked.

He gaped in horror.

His son was sitting on the bed.

"Surprise!" Saskia laughed.

"Dad!" James ran up to Cobb and hugged his side. "Dad!"

Cobb turned to Saskia, turning sharply with James still attached. "What did you do?"

"I thought this would make you hap—"

"No!" Cobb shouted, but then recollected himself. "No, I mean… you can't just kidnap kids. This _is_ kidnapping."

Sakia frowned and crossed her arms. "Your mother-in-law doesn't have custody. You gave him up on your own freewill."

"Regardless, Marie is his guardian."

"But this makes you happy? Your children—it's nearly all you talk about, how they were taken from you. How very much you miss them."

"Daddy?" James asked, his voice thin and brittle with confusion.

Cobb went down on his knee and James wrapped his arms around his neck. "Of course I miss my son and daughter, but this isn't the solution." He asked his son, "Where's your sister?"

"I don't know…" James looked at Saskia.

Cobb turned to Saskia and she answered for James, "She's still with your mother-in-law."

"How did you even get James?"

"He wanted to see Dad—"

"No, how did you _find_ him? How did you _get_ him? How?"

"I looked through your records on his school. Then I waited for your mother-in-law to pick him up. I did this for a couple days, following them. You have pictures everywhere."

At that moment, Cobb cringed. Saskia had done so little work to locate his children. What was stopping other people from doing the same, or even doing an internet search on honor roll students or any of the other activities James was in? He shook that runaway train of anxiety out of his head. That was beside the point at that moment. He was surprised Marie hadn't called him yet.

"He was dropped off at the house today while the grandmother and your daughter went back into town."

"I don't like shopping for clothes," James remarked.

"You should speak to your son about going with strangers."

James furrowed his brow. "But you said you were good friends with Dad and Arthur. And you took me home. That doesn't make you a stranger… does it?"

Cobb's face burned. "She's okay. Don't worry." He shook his head.

Saskia looked away. He didn't think she understood the gravity of the situation, and now he had to act quickly. This mistake could easily prevent him from seeing his children until they became legal adults.

He called Marie's number and left the room. He knew there would be an argument, and he didn't need James to hear it.

Marie picked up on the first ring.

 _"What do you want?"_


	10. Chapter 10

**(A/N: Thank you for reading along! It feels great that I finally have this story polished and shared with you guys. This was definitely a slow-and-steady kind of story in its journey from a lovely prompt that I found until clicking that complete status button. I'd love to hear what you liked about it!)**

* * *

Where could he start? Cobb swallowed to gather his nerves and said, "Marie, James is with me. I'm going to—"

" _JAMES? Wh-?_ _Where're you going with him?_ "

"I'm bringing James back to your house. It was a misunderstanding." The truth was out of the question. "He was homesick and he got on a bus."

 _"You better bring him home. You have thirty minutes, Dom. You better not let me see you."_ Marie abruptly ended their call.

Cobb blinked and snorted. _Icy-voiced woman..._ He rubbed his face. Just faintly, he could hear James talking to Saskia, and the sound of his son's voice was both comforting and both troubling. It made his body ache. _Now time to rip off the Band-Aid…_ he thought.

Saskia and James were playing "Simon Says." It would've been cute if not for the circumstances.

"Simon says… put your foot on your ear."

"That's hard." James plunked down and tried his best to touch his shoe to the side of his blond head. "I can't do that, Saskia. Can you do this?"

"Sure I can!" Saskia sat down on the floor. She raised her leg up with ease.

"Wow, that's cool."

"Okay, now, stand on one foot."

James leaped up and started to raise his foot, but froze and groaned. "Simon didn't say it."

Saskia laughed.

Cobb was regretful when the lilting sound faded away and they noticed he was standing there watching. Cobb crossed his arms and Saskia stood. The childish, amused smile couldn't survive on her lips when she took in his hard expression.

"I'm taking James home… Please leave, Saskia."

"Cobb…" Saskia deflated.

"Please. Leave."

She lowered her eyes. "It's just that you love your children so much, Dom. I know how much you want to be with them, and I thought—"

"No. You didn't think."

"You sound like Arthur."

Cobb looked away, and took James by the arm. "Did you bring anything with you, Son?"

"No… My jacket!"

"Fine." Saskia said, her voice wavering. "I don't need to be here if you will be like this to me. I want to bring you joy. You just hate me for it."

In awkward silence, they went downstairs. Cobb's groceries were still sitting on the floor. Waiting on James to find his jacket, Cobb opened the front door for Saskia, his eyes lowered. Saskia took the hint and shuffled out the door with a few of her things that she'd grabbed. Cobb thought he glimpsed tears in her eyes.

When James returned and stood in the doorway with his dad, he whispered, "Dad… Did you make her cry? Isn't she a friend?" He then ventured, "A _good_ friend?"

Cobb flinched. "She shouldn't have brought you here. And I won't be seeing her anymore." Saskia drove off in her little black car. He didn't hate the young woman. But even if it seemed harmless, she'd crossed a hard line— nobody intruded upon his children's lives. Being with Saskia had been an escape, and if he'd learned anything at all from experience, escaping from his personal reality was asinine. There was no place for that in his life when more than ever he needed to stay grounded.

Or that's what he told himself… because if he didn't, nobody else would. He sighed and nodded to himself. "Let's get you home to Grandma's."

"Okay…" James replied uncertainly. Cobb could tell the boy was thinking about Saskia and what had happened. To Cobb, dropping the subject seemed best.

They got into the car and Cobb drove across town, making little chatter with James because he knew they had just this little time together. The topic flowed from school, to cartoons, to what they'd done over the winter break. James had even taken a trip to France, which explained why Marie had seemingly vanished with the kids around Christmas. It just would've been better if Marie hadn't ignored him, though there was nothing he could do about it now.

"Dad, I'm sorry Phillipa is so mean. I miss you."

"You're sister isn't mean…"

"She made you upset. That's mean. She doesn't want us to live with you. You're lonely. I want to see you, but Grandma keeps being busy and keeps saying she's 'made plans' so I can't..."

"Your sister is making a choice for herself," Cobb told his son. "Sometimes the choices we make for ourselves hurt others." His throat clenched for a moment. "Sometimes the things we say and do hurt others. And you need to respect your Grandmother."

"Can I choose to spend time with you this summer, Dad?"

"Maybe." It was really up to Marie. She was in control. She might give up her grandson for a week or so in the late summer, but after this misunderstanding, Cobb couldn't be sure. "I'll tell you what. I'm going to try to write to you. Once a week at least. I'll write you letters and mail them to you. Then you can write me back."

"I guess." James seemed unconvinced. "Can't you email or call or text?"

"I could. Your mom and I mailed letters to each other before we were married. I still have most of them. Can you hold an email, phone call, or text in your hands?"

James grinned. "No! Okay, good idea, Dad."

Cobb smiled back at his son.

It felt good to smile.

* * *

Saying goodbye to James didn't _quite_ feel like his heart was being ripped out by wild animals. It just felt like he'd had a solid, burning mass shoved behind his ribs. The fire would burn slowly, and he wondered how long the residue would linger. The wound had already been reopened, and he'd have to try his best to function again… And this wasn't even that hard. James had mentioned that his French lessons were going well, though Cobb didn't think the boy knew about his grandmother's plans to move the children overseas. He said good-bye to the boy and went back to his house where he put his groceries away, made a bowl of cereal, and went to bed early.

He wished he was better at things that didn't involve the dreamshare…

A couple weeks passed, and Cobb was still wandering through life, trying to fight off the inevitable melancholy and disinterest before it came on too strong and became impossible to escape again. Cobb mailed his son their first letter. He worried that Marie would toss it out, but a few days later, he received a letter in the mail with two pages of lanky, but readable, text. Soon, Cobb needed a box for his letters, and the letters made his days tolerable. Kept him present.

He wished he was better at dealing with things outside the dreamshare…

He hadn't seen Saskia since the day she'd brought James to him. He deeply missed her warmth and carefree nature, and after a few weeks, his body began to ache for seemingly no reason. In the daydreams he'd have in the shower or late at night when insomnia took over, he pictured himself about someplace, and she'd surprise him with her appearance, greeting him like she hadn't messed up and he hadn't been so ready to shun her. He often felt guilty. Once or twice he considered calling to apologize for dropping her like she'd meant nothing, when she'd meant so much, but he felt paralyzed to do so, like he did in so many things in his life. After a while, he erased her from his phone to remove the temptation.

 _Maybe at another time in another place…_ _I really hope she doesn't screw over or piss off the wrong person. Not everybody will be as understanding. But if we cross paths again… I don't think I'll be able to let her go twice._

A month into his insidious bachelorhood, Cobb had to make _the_ phone call to Arthur, his Point Man. He was more restless than ever. He had to do something. Whatever Arthur had going on, he needed in. And with no prospects, what was the point of putting off the inevitable?

To a definite fault, it was what he was best at. The reality of his reality was that the one thing he excelled at was tricking others with theirs.

All along, there had been no escaping his dreams.

* * *

 **(I definitely feel like after his actual babies, that the dreamshare is Cobb's job baby. But anyway, thanks for reading! 3 Please take a minute to review!)**


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